The Irony of Love and Dark Marble
by tasha.vick
Summary: Johnlock!fic 'He was back. But it came with a heart-breaking price.' short one-shot.


**I couldn't _not_ write a Johnlock fic(although it's technically just a small drabble one-shot), it is too powerful, this connection between the two of them to miss the opportunity to write as I see it.**

* * *

When he got the vague call from Lestrade, Joh couldn't believe his ears. When he arrived at the adress he'd been given, he shuddered at the entrance. It was a house in a back alley in one of the most vile parts of London. But it wasn't because of that he shivered, and felt his heart shatter in a million tiny pieces all over again. It was the knowledge. The fact that he was right. He knew he had found Sherlock. And that he had lost him again.

When he entered the small room where Greg waited, all his suspicions were confirmed.

The smell, the haphazardness of the place, it all screamed Sherlock. He could see his friend in the gun marks on the wall, how terribly familiar. In the afterthought of cigarettes in the air, the ones he'd sworn off years ago. And most importantly, in the sight of the violin settled peacefully on the window sill.

Finally, his eyes roamed the rest of the flat and he walked off in an unknown direction, his feet carrying him to the bedroom. There was a single bed and a shabby old desk and chair right next to it. And on the bed lay his friend, his best friend, the best man anyone could have ever known.

John barely had the strength to reach the piece of furniture before he colapsed next to it, kneeling next to Sherlock's peaceful body.

Tears streamed down his face, and he reached up to unwind a set of rebelious raven curls off the pale forehead, hoping against all hope that he would see his beautiful sapphire eyes loooking back at him. They did no such thing.

He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Sherlock's soft cold ones. And then the darkness took over.

* * *

When John woke, it was in a hospital. He looked around to find Lestrade seated in a chair next to him. With painful clarity, memories started surging into his brain and he squeezed his eyes to shut them out. He barely registered Lestrade's words, and the two sheets of paper that he'd left on John's lap.

One was a letter from Sherlock to the Yard, explaining that there was no foul play involved in his murder and that they should seek no further than the bottle of sleeping pills on his night stand. He was sick and wanted to die on his own terms. He also gave a full explanation as to his reasons for faking his own death.

And then there was an envelope enscribed: _''To John, in the event of my death.''_

The army doctor couldn't bring himself to read that one until he got home. Until he knew for sure that he could fall apart in the privacy of his own quarters.

* * *

John had no more tears left and in their stead came a gut wrenching pain in his heart. He'd heard of the suffering of people who'd lost their loved ones, physical suffering, but never knew it would be something he would experience himself. He turned to the desk, and from underneath his laptop took the divorce papers he'd signed that morning. He still had to send them to Mary.

* * *

John Watson was alone again. And this time standing nexto to Sherlock's real grave.

''There was only you. She knew it, but...I wanted you to know, too. Even though now I really know I'm talking into thin air...''

He tried to say something else but his voice betrayed him,and he simply slumped next to the black marble stone and cast his gaze on the damp ground bleakly. In his pocket he caressed the worn copy of the letter he'd read so many times. He took it out and neatly splayed it in his lap. Tears blurring his vision, he read for the hundredth time, the last words of the only person he ever truly loved.

**_''Darling John,_**

**_If this evening I should follow the path of my old, restless ways, to find a calm place, look into myself and hide from the world...If they should find this chamber empty of my soul...you'd be the only one to understand, you're the only one who can, like you've done time and time again. Your heart knows the shortcuts, and maps to all the roads that lead to me. Others chase after the stars and the Moon of the wretched solar system, trying to touch the sky, just to have beside them someone like you, someone I once had._**

**_What could I have possibly done to deserve you? Sorrow should have been my only companion. And while I sought answers to old wounds, you kept me out of harm's way. You still do, even though you are so far._**

**_I miss you,and think, more often than is healthy (but then again, who am I to talk of healthy?) about how it could've been, what we could have been._**

**_Last year, I perched on a hill overlooking your wedding. You were smiling, as you always deserve to be, you danced, but it was not with me. You laughed, but the sound was for another. And it's okay. Because of all the people on this miserably huge planet...you, my dear friend, are the one who deserves it most._**

**_Be happy, John._**

**_All my love, always and forever_**

**_Sherlock.''_**

_**_fin_**  
_

A/N-Excuse any spelling mistakes, I was such an emotional wreck while editing and proofreading this that I might have missed some.


End file.
